Guardian of the Sacred Wurmple
by Inspector Panderp
Summary: With her dying breath, Beautifly makes Swellow swear never to eat her children. Like any good partner, Swellow complies. Now if only she knew which one was which. The history of Team Tasty, of PMD2. Companion fic to Through Time and Darkness. CRACK


What an interesting story, you have stumbled upon, Reader. No – I shall rephrase that, what a _peculiar_ story, you have stumbled upon.

My dear Reader, this is the whimsical story of Team Tasty, and its two odd members.

My dear Reader, _this_ is the story of the Guardian of the Sacred Wurmple.

Our unusual tale begins with Team Air, an exploration squad comprised of Swellow, and her partner Beautifly. The mating season for insects has recently ended, and all that is left is for the eggs to hatch. It is common knowledge that our earthly butterflies do not live very long after laying their eggs. Just as well, this is also true for the many delicate-looking insect pokemon of this strange planet. Thus, Swellow's treasured partner Beautifly was at her end.

"Before I go," she whispered, and while I would have liked to say that it was a gentle, melodic sound, it came out as a whining sort of buzz (because she _was _still an insect-thing, after all), "promise me…"

"Yes?" replied Swellow hastily, for her friend could drop dead any moment.

"Promise me…" she half-choked, half-buzzed, reaching out a small limb feebly, "that…"

"_Yes_?" Swellow leaned in. She could hear the pocket watch in her bag ticking, of all the things she should've heard at this moment.

"Promise me that…" By now, Swellow was beginning to get confused. Despite dramatically repeating and leaving her sentence hanging three times, she was still not _dead_. How long did it take a beautifly to die from…er, the act of creation, she wondered?

"Promise me…"

"_YES, WHAT IS IT?_" Swellow exclaimed, exasperated at the fourth repeat.

"Promisemethatyouwon'teatmybabies.'Kaythanks, bye."

And then she really did drop dead.

"Noooo!" Swellow screamed, shaking the body roughly. "Wait, what?"

"Oh," said another beautifly, half a second away from falling to the ground in her own death throes, "she asked you not to eat any of her children."

"But which ones are hers?" Swellow nearly screeched, looking at all the eggs hanging from the leaves.

"Don't know. There's no way to tell for sure," Not-Beautifly shrugged.

"T-then how do I honor my promise?" she spluttered unbelievingly.

"Just don't eat any wurmples, weedles or caterpies!" Not-Beautifly suggested cheerfully.

And then she, too, dropped dead.

"Huh," Swellow began. "I guess not all beautiflies go through death throes?"

Nine years later…

Insection Matriarch's chambers

3:00 hours

"So, um… Remind why I'm here again?" The extravagantly robed beautifly lifted her head and tried to flutter upwards to create a grand image, but found that the fashionable rock and fluff accessories were too limiting for her flight.

"You, Lady Swellow, are to protect my dear son Wurmpelion VIII for the rest of his life, until he becomes a beautifly like me, because, of course he wouldn't become such an _ugly _dustox," she sighed dramatically, twitching her bejeweled feelers. "My brothers and brother-in-laws have set up a new successor for the Wurmpelion dynasty."

"Who would that be?" Swellow inquired skeptically. It was… such a _worthless_ dynasty, after all.

"Caterpielion XII, my nephew, of course." Obviously, the royal insect family's names were very original and _non-repetitive._

"I…see."

"At any rate, remember, you _must_ convince everyone that my dear little Wurmpy Jr. is dead."

"Wurmpy…?" she was tempted to say, but held it in.

Next day,

Royal Insection Council Room

11:00 hours

The Council Room was literally abuzz with excitement, as members of the royal family chatted or argued or downright screamed at each other over forest affairs. There were beautiflies and butterfrees, beedrills and scizors. All of the like of insect relation had gathered in the large and ornate room to discuss what should be done about this, or how they should deal with that.

In the middle of it all sat Wurmpelion VIII, shifting uncomfortably in his ridiculously large and decorative seat (which wasn't as comfy as it looked). Honestly, he wondered how the scribes and secretaries could write down everything everyone was saying, as well as record who said what and when.

"Ah!" cried one of them, an un-evolved kakuna.

"What? What is it?" responded his partner in alarm.

"I-I erased the last two 'I's in Caterpielion XII by accident! I think I just shaved off a few generations!"

"Well write them back! Write them back!" shouted his scyther-friend desperately, "before everyone but the elders disappear!"

"I'm going, I'm going!"

Oh yes, he definitely didn't understand how they did it.

_Rrripp!_

The straw ceiling tore open, and Wurmpelion saw a large shadow in the sky.

"Le gasp!" cried one of his decidedly fancier caterpie uncles, his cartoon-villain-esque antennae standing straight up in the air. For some reason or other, Wurmpelion could recall that his uncle decided not to evolve because the young and cute caterpie-look attracted the lady-bugs. He shivered. Who was he _really_ related to in this family again?

The humongous shadow swooped down and snatched him up, and with the light flowing in, he could see he was in the talons of a swellow. Immediately he seized up and began to writhe and squirm uncontrollably, as was his natural instinct to do so. Then, once again due to his nature, he… ahem, frassed.

The swellow seemed to falter for a moment, but then pulled up into a hover above the elongated council table.

"Bwa ha ha!" the now known she-swellow paused in the middle of her evil laugh to cough a little before continuing, "I've stolen your heir, worms!"

"Nooo!" the insects shouted in despair, and tried to take flight as well, but found they couldn't due to some extremely cumbersome clothing.

"Ha, ha! And now I'm eating him, suckers!" With a great gust, she was far above them, and she sped away with powerful beats of her wings, a petrified wurmple between her vile claws.

Viridian Forest,

12:00 hours

After a long time in the air, he was suddenly sent flying downwards. The sudden dip in altitude caught him by surprise, and he landed – quite unfittingly for a great heir like himself – in an unceremonious heap on the scratchy, straw nest. Dizzily, he took a moment to assess his situation. In the den of the ninetails… As helpless as a pidgey without wings…

"Aaah!" he screamed, wriggling backwards from the swellow that had been watching him curiously for the last ten seconds or so. She took a cautious step forward, craning her neck and peering at him oddly, as if deciding her next course of action.

Viridian Forest,

12:04 hours

Oh, what should she do? Wurmpelion was scared of her, and she knew from first-hand experience that frightened clients were bound to do something stupid. If she tried to approach him, he might try to pull another stunt like he did when she first got a hold of him, but… He wouldn't would he?

"Nah," she thought. "Stuff like that takes time to, um, recharge. He wouldn't dare go again."

Swellow stepped forward again, and bent her neck down further so that she was eye level with him.

"Please don't eat me!" he squeaked, and then in fear he did something that normal bodily function would not usually allow.

"Uh oh, he went," Swellow though blandly, before realizing that Spring Cleaning had been but days ago. "Hey!" she yelled, aloud this time. "I _just_ cleaned that!"

"I'm sorry! Sorry!" he said, waving around his stubby appendages. Swellow took in a deep breath, and then recited her promise to Beautifly to herself.

"Look, just – whatever. And I'm _not_ going to eat you, okay?"

"W-why not?' Wurmpelion asked, greatly befuddled.

"Your mother's asked me to look after you until you're fully grown, so you can properly inherit the throne later. Some of your uncles – I think one of them was Le Gasp – are planning to usurp your father, and so you'll be assassinated soon enough."

"Who's going to be the heir, then?" Wurmpelion sniveled slightly.

"Eh, some Caterpielion XII, or something. I can't really bother myself to remember right now."

"Caterpielion? XII?" Wurmpelion gasped outrageously. "I knew that guy was no good the moment he gave me back my voodoo worm!"

"What's so bad about that?"

"Well, right about then, I was trying to drown it by throwing it in the river."

"I… see."

"Uh… I guess I can kind of believe you, but first! I need proof."

"What kind of proof?" Swellow eyed him suspiciously.

"My mother has an embarrassing nickname for me, and if you really met her you would-"

"Wurmpy Jr."

Wurmpelion stared at her for a moment, and then turned a brilliant shade of purple (because he was purple to begin with, and if you add red, you get more purple!). Coughing away his mortification, he turned back to Swellow, having looked away in order to compose himself.

"Well what do we do now?"

"Um… You know what?" Swellow began sheepishly.

"What?"

"I hadn't really thought that far ahead."

"How about... ?"

"What?" Swellow spluttered, the sense of déjà vu ringing in the back of her head before she straightened up. "Never mind."

There was a loud rustling above them, and a branch snapped somewhere. They were showered in leaves as something blue fell from the upper canopies, the branch it brought with it clubbing Swellow right over the head.

"That _hurt_!" she cried indignantly, rubbing the back of her head. The intruder paid her no mind and wobbled over to the side of the nest and began to shred the straw apart. Wurmpelion and Swellow gaped at it for a full moment, before Wurmpelion finally, albeit uncomfortably, turned away from it.

"Uh, so, what do you think?" he asked. The intruder turned to them, just as Swellow was about to answer.

"Wynaut?"

To be _never_ continued…

* * *

_A/N_: So, um… yeah. A very loose Seirei no Moribito cross-over that is a pure crack exploration of Team Tasty's history. This _is_ a companion to Mesataki's Through Time and Darkness, so be sure to check that out as well (Mesataki's taking requests :D)

I wasn't really sure how to characterize Swellow and Wurmple, so I made Swellow the hapless, easily swayed, but indignant and skeptical type. Wurmple was playing the part of the heir who doesn't really feel like being an heir sort of person. I also tried to copy the whole "Chagum," "Sagum" thing Seirei had going with the two brothers, but... yeah. About the part of the insects being weighed down, I was playing through some contests, and I noticed how stupid some of the accessories were, like rocks or random fluff. They also looked very impractical. The "don't eat wurmples, caterpies, etc." thing was also a copy of Balsa's vow never to kill anyone again. You get it, don't you?

Um, not really sure how, but it went from satirical to crack-ish in a matter of lines. Sorry. And yes, apparently the mashing together of words _is_ a species thing. The wynaut popping out of nowhere is supposed to be a random occurence, and its reply to Wurmple's question is a (not-very) little inside joke between Mesataki and I. By the way, how many puns and references can you catch? If you read this A/N, use "great googley moogley" somewhere in your review.


End file.
